Rebel With A Cause
by aj81writing NO LONGER IN USE
Summary: AU/AH. Journalist Elena Gilbert is promised an exclusive interview with revolutionary leader Young-Zhu and travels across the world to meet with him. Once she arrives, though, she is confronted with his second-in-command, an American named Damon...
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: So, I got this idea in my head, and it wouldn't leave me alone until I at least started writing out some scenes. I started posting this on LJ as a minific with a few scenes here and there, but then I couldn't help myself and decided to make it a full story. So if you've read my posts on LJ, you'll recognize some of the scenes – and pretty much this entire chapter. It's based on a small part of the 1985 miniseries Lace II. Enjoy!_

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><p>REBEL WITH A CAUSE<p>

~ I ~

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><p>Elena Gilbert wiped the sweat off her forehead with the scarf she wore around her neck. For days now she had travelled, heading deep into the jungle to meet with the revolutionary leader Young-Zhu for an exclusive interview.<p>

Since she left her newspaper's office five days ago, she had travelled by airplane, train, canoe and, for the last leg of the trip, by elephant. Every part of her body ached and she longed for a bath. The insects buzzing around her did nothing for her mood, or her confidence.

Less than a month ago, the man she loved had asked her to marry him, and she accepted. They had a big celebration the weekend before she left for Asia, and she had been beautiful. Everyone had said so.

Elena and Mark were the perfect couple. Successful, rich, drop dead gorgeous… Elena couldn't believe her luck when her editor told her the news. The elusive revolutionary leader, who hadn't given interviews in decades, had invited _her_ to write an in-depth article about his life. It was a potential Pulitzer-worthy story, and it would secure Elena a place among the big names in journalism.

Mark had been proud of her, of course, but he _did_ voice his concern that she would be travelling across the world on her own. But she really didn't have a choice. The invitation was strictly limited to _her_. Perhaps she should have questioned why, but the opportunity was just too great to pass up.

Now, as her journey seemed endless, she wondered if it was really worth it. She was utterly alone in a strange country, in a remote place of the world, where rebel soldiers could attack at any moment. More than once, Elena had been told to hide while enemy soldiers passed their route. She was seriously ready to get this interview over and done with.

Just when Elena thought she couldn't stand another minute on elephant-back, the jungle opened up and the men that had kept her out of harm's way for the last couple of days relaxed and their voices were raised in what sounded like joyful shouting. We must have arrived, Elena deduced.

One of the men helped her down and Elena took a moment to get her land-legs back. Riding an elephant was an experience that could be likened to sitting in a boat that rocked, and Elena felt the effects of it.

The gleeful shouting subsided as a man emerged from the crowd which had gathered around the new arrivals. Among the indigenous people, he stood out like a sore thumb. A raven-haired, blue-eyed thumb, that is. He carried himself with authority, and from the reaction of the men in the camp, it seemed he was the one in charge.

"Miss Gilbert, welcome," he drawled in a velvety voice, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

"You're American," Elena said, taken aback.

"Well, don't hold it against me," he smirked.

"I'm here to see Mr. Zhu. Is he available?"

"Come, you must be tired from your journey," he said smoothly, gesturing towards a hut-like structure with a surrounding veranda. A small table was set with two dishes and a bottle of questionable content.

"I am," Elena confirmed. "But I'm also anxious to meet with Mr. Zhu."

"Understandably so. Mr. Zhu is a fascinating man. Unfortunately, he is not available at the moment," the man said and leaned back in this chair while gesturing for her to take a seat.

"Not available?" Elena frowned as she sat down at the table. "I've travelled for days and he's not here?"

"I'm afraid he had some pressing business to attend to. He should be back within a few days."

"A few _days_?"

"Well, it's not exactly like he can get in his car and drive around. You've seen for yourself how treacherous this area can be."

"So in the meanwhile, I'm supposed to sit here and wait?"

"Yes. But you are in luck."

"How so?"

"You have _me_ to keep you company," he smirked.

"I don't even know your name."

"It's Damon. Call me Damon."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thanks for the sweet reviews and the encouragement. Sorry this is short, but I wanted to give you an update : ) Enjoy!_

_PS: In case I didn't mention it, any reference to actual people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.__ This is purely a work of fiction. Absolutely no realism intended._

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><p>REBEL WITH A CAUSE<p>

~ II ~

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><p>"Damon? Just Damon? No last name?" Elena frowned.<p>

"'Damon' is the only name you need to know."

"So who is Damon?"

"I'm Young-Zhu's right hand man. No-one gets to him without going through me," Damon drawled and put his feet up on the table, his hands behind his head.

"So you're his secretary," Elena quipped, annoyed by his cocky attitude.

Damon ignored her and stood up. "I hope your stay here will be pleasant, Miss Gilbert," he drawled and walked off the porch. "There's a bed for you inside," he gestured to the hut as he turned to leave.

"Wait!" Elena called out. "When can I see Mr. Zhu?"

"All in good time, Miss Gilbert. All in good time."

A young woman came walking past the hut and when she spotted Damon, her whole face lit up. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and whispered something in her ear. It was apparently something very amusing, Elena noted dryly, because the girl giggled and clung to him like flypaper.

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><p>Days passed and Elena didn't see much of Damon – or anyone else for that matter. The only people she came in contact with were the woman who brought her food and the guards that sat, armed, outside the hut. Neither of them spoke English. Damon had said the guards were there to protect her, but Elena felt more like a prisoner than anything else.<p>

Every time she _did_ see Damon, he had his arm around a new woman or giving the men instructions in a foreign language. Then, suddenly, he left the camp along with a group of soldiers and wasn't heard from in days. So much for keeping her company, Elena noted sourly.

She did her best to fill her days. Her notebooks were quickly filling up with descriptions of her surroundings, her journey to the camp, the weather, the scenery, the people. Her description of Damon, though, was by far the most detailed one.

For only having seen and spoken to him a few times, Elena was painfully aware of his many annoying traits. The way he carried himself as though he was above everyone else, the way people seemed to worship the ground he walked on, the way he expected _her_ to. Damon I'm-Too-Cool-For-A-Last-Name was an arrogant, self-centered, unreliable, womanizing jerk. He refused to give her any information whatsoever about Young-Zhu and wouldn't answer any of her questions. And then he just left.

He hadn't even bothered to tell her, she had to ask the woman bringing her food where he was – which was basically her saying 'Damon?' and looking around, and the woman shrugging and pointing to the jungle.

'Damon' – no last name, she huffed. Who did he think he was? Tarzan? A brief mental image of Damon in a loincloth suddenly flashed in Elena's mind and she quickly took a sip of water. She was clearly hallucinating. This languid heat was making her drowsy… and crazy.

She decided to clear her head and regain her focus by sitting down to write her fiancé a letter.

_Dear Mark,_

_As I sit in my hut in the middle of nowhere, I wish you were here with me. No, on second thought, I wish I was at home with __you__. Are the roses in bloom yet? Oh, how I long to sit on our porch and sip lemonade while the soft breeze cools our sun-kissed skin. Ok, substitute 'lemonade' for 'beer' and you've got yourself a deal, you'd say. I'd been ok with that, too. I have a porch here too, you know. Well, it's more like a couple of planks, but a girl can dream, right?_

_You wouldn't believe the journey I've been on so far. It was hell getting here, and I'm not exactly enjoying myself 'here' as it is, either. I've been sitting around for days waiting for my interview. One can only prepare so many times before every question is imprinted on one's brain. _

_If this had been any other story, I would have turned around and left by now, but it wouldn't be an exclusive if it didn't come at a price, would it? For this story, the price is my time. Time I'd much rather spend with you, planning our wedding. You know you've made me the happiest woman alive, right? I can't wait to get back to our life together._

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><p>"Hey, Mark," the blonde greeted him at the Grill, the local watering hole, where he had basically taken up residence since Elena left.<p>

"Hi, Caroline," he replied with a weak smile. "Pull up a chair," he gestured to the empty stool next to him at the bar.

"Don't mind if I do," she said, chipper, and hopped up on the chair, her skirt riding up a bit as she did so, revealing a part of milky white thigh.

Mark found his gaze lingering on the tantalizing image before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He had a fiancée. A beautiful, passionate fiancée. Well, passionate about her work, at least.

They were the perfect match, everybody said so. His parents loved Elena, they were the ones who had pushed him to propose. 'Don't let her get away, son', his father had said. Well, he did, in a way. He let her go gallivanting halfway across the world for a story. A _story_!

"Have you heard from Elena?" Caroline asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He looked over to see she had ordered herself a beer, just like him. Huh, he had always thought Caroline was so… well, princess-y, not drinking anything other than bright-colored cocktails.

"Uh… no. Nothing," he answered her question.

"What? It's been weeks since she left?" Caroline looked at him, wide-eyed.

"She's in some remote part of the world where there aren't phones or internet connections readily available," he shrugged.

"You're not worried about her?"

"Of course I am. But what can I do, Caroline? She does what she wants, she always has."

"Listen, Elena and I were never close growing up, and we drifted even further apart as we grew up, but I know she's dedicated to her family, and she's not going to stay away any longer than absolutely necessary," Caroline said reassuringly, placing a hand on his knee.

"Uh… yeah. Thanks, Caroline."

"You're welcome," she said, chipper as always and turning her attention back to her beer.

Mark found himself missing the brief contact of her hand on his leg and shook his head once again. Elena. Elena was his beautiful fiancée and she would be coming back home to him any day now.

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><p>After what seemed like a week, Elena woke one night to the sound of guns firing and voices shouting. She sat up in bed, clutching the covers to her. Even the nights were hot in this jungle, so she slept in silky pajamas in the form of a camisole and short shorts.<p>

Fear gripped her and she felt a cold shiver run down her spine as the voices came closer. They didn't seem agitated, though. It sounded more like a celebration. Elena gasped in fright when the door to the hut creaked open.

"Miss me?" a velvety voice drawled.

"What are you doing here?"

"This is my hut," he said in a duh-tone.

"Well… then what am _I_ doing here?"

"You're my guest."

"Is that so? Weird, because I feel more like a prisoner."

"I'm sorry about that. I really had planned for your stay with us to be comfortable."

"I'll be comfortable when I'm back in the States in my own bedroom."

"As you will be… soon enough."

"I don't understand… where is Young-Zhu?"

"Young-Zhu is a very busy man. He has delegated many of his duties to me. In fact, he trusted me completely with this whole affair – seeing as it was _my_ idea to bring you here in the first place."

"Your idea?"

"Elena Gilbert engaged to Mark Lockwood," he said as if reading it on a billboard. "The Gilberts may be wealthy, but compared to the Lockwoods, they might as well be paupers."

"I'm sorry, but I don't see how my personal life has anything to do with this story."

"You don't get it, do you?" he chuckled, walking over to the bed and towering over her. "There is no story."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thanks for the sweet reviews. Yes, this is short, but it's better than nothing, right? : ) Enjoy!_

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><p>REBEL WITH A CAUSE<p>

~ III ~

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><p>Elena shivered despite the heat permeating the hut.<p>

"What do you mean there's no story?"

Damon shrugged and straightened. "Exactly what I said."

He walked over to the washbasin and poured some of the water from the pitcher into the bowl to splash his face with. He stripped out of his shirt and cargo pants, leaving him only in boxers, and proceeded to clean himself with the help of a washcloth.

Elena watched him, her pulse racing. He moved with feline grace and his body was all muscles. He had a few faded scars on his back and arms, visible in the glow from the lanterns burning in the room. That same glow enhanced his tanned skin and gave his sweat-coated lean body a sheen that reminded Elena of a bronze statue.

"Why am I here?" she finally got out.

"The group I work for are in desperate need of funding. We're talking large sums of money. What your magazine agreed to pay for this article is small change is comparison to what your fiancé will cough up to bring you back in one piece.

"You're ransoming me?" Elena gasped.

"I sent a telegram to your editor with the instructions. When the money is wired into our account, you'll be free to leave," he said simply.

"And if they refuse to pay?" Elena gulped.

"They'll pay."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because if they don't…" he stalked up to her, reaching out to trail her jaw line with his index finger, "this pretty little neck of yours will meet the sharp end of my blade."

Elena held her breath until he pulled back his hand. "You're a monster," she hissed.

"I'm a soldier," he corrected her. "And you are a prisoner of war."

With that, he walked over to the other side of the bed and climbed in.

"What do you think you're doing?" Elena gasped.

"I'm going to get some sleep, if you don't mind," he said and laid down on his side, facing away from her.

"I'm not sleeping in the same bed with you."

"Suit yourself. Sleep on the floor for all I care. I can't guarantee you'll be bug-free in the morning, though, but hey, it's up to you."

Elena huffed and considered her options. She finally decided to stay put. She would wait until he fell asleep, then she would sneak out. Yeah, that was a plan as good as any. Except she had no idea where they were, or how to get out of wherever 'here' was.

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><p>Elena lay perfectly still, listening to Damon's breathing slow and even out. When she was sure he was in a deep sleep, she crept out of bed and slipped on a shirt and cargo pants. She found her sneakers and picked them up. She would put them on once she got outside. After one last glance back at Damon's sleeping form, she reached for the door.<p>

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a velvety voice drawled, not a hint of sleepiness to it.

Startled, Elena spun around to see Damon, still in bed, still with his back turned to her. Was she imagining things?

"My men have orders to shoot anything that moves," he said calmly, still not looking at her.

"How are you going to ransom me if I'm dead?" she said defiantly.

Damon chuckled and finally turned around to look at her, his arms behind his head. "I didn't say they would shoot to kill," he said casually.

"Ugh!" Elena exclaimed, frustrated, and threw one of her shoes at him.

He caught it mid-air. She was about to throw her other shoe when he was suddenly in front of her, his hand locked around her wrist.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Miss Gilbert," he admonished her, his voice laced with amusement. "There's really no need for violence."

"That's rich, coming from you," she hissed, yanking her wrist free.

"Oh, you are a firecracker, aren't you?" he smirked. "I would love to make you pop."

"You're disgusting," she hissed and pushed past him, back to the bed, where she flopped down, defiantly crossing her arms over her chest.

"Aren't you a tad overdressed for bed?" he hiked an eyebrow and returned to the bed. "I much preferred your earlier attire…"

Elena huffed and curled up on her side, facing away from him.

"Goodnight, Miss Gilbert," he said sweetly and chuckled before also turning his back to her.

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><p>"Mr. Lockwood?" a voice on the phone asked as Mark picked up.<p>

"Speaking," he croaked and rubbed his eyes.

"This is Alaric Saltzman from the Mystic Falls Gazette."

"Oh, right, you're Elena's editor."

"Yes. I'm afraid I have some bad news, Mr. Lockwood."

Mark sat up straight in bed. "What happened?"

"It seems… Elena's being held hostage."

"What?"

"The revolutionary leader she was invited to interview… it was a sham. They're asking for five million dollars by Friday."

"Friday? _This_ Friday? That's impossible. It's only four days away. That's not enough time to get the money together. We need more time."

"I don't know how to contact them. I only got a telegram with their demand and the wiring instructions."

"Then we wait for them to make contact again," Mark said resolutely.

"But Mr. Lockwood…"

"They want money, right? Well, they're not getting a dime if they hurt Elena, so I say we wait."

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><p>Elena awoke to Damon's sniggering. She sat up in bed and looked around to find him sprawled out on a chair, leisurely reading from a piece of paper. Her letter!<p>

Furious, she shot out of bed and grabbed it from him. "Do you mind?" she said between clenched teeth.

"Not at all," he smirked. "So you and Mr. Lockwood is quite the lovey-dovey couple, aren't you? Interesting, how you long to sit on a porch with him and not to rip his clothes off…"

"What I write or don't write is none of your business," Elena hissed.

"Ooh, touchy… And besides, it _is_ my business. This whole plan is contingent on what your precious fiancé is willing to do to save you. If the two of you lack passion…"

"We have plenty of passion, thank you very much," she scoffed.

"Good. Then I'm sure he'll be wiring the money any minute now."

"I'm sure he will," Elena said, her head held high and her hands on her hips.

"Excellent. Now, there's breakfast for you outside. I'm going to go find me some passion myself, since I didn't get any last night," he looked her over suggestively. "Unless you've changed your mind…?"

"Go to hell," she spat at him.

Damon laughed. "See you later, Princess."

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><p>"They're asking for five million dollars?" Caroline gawked.<p>

"Yup," Mark said and took a swig of his beer. He had called Caroline as soon as he hung up the phone with Elena's boss and asked her to meet him at the Grill.

"Did Elena's boss say anything else? Does he even know she's still alive?"

"Apparently, they only sent instructions for transferring the money."

"Well, can't you track it? And are you going to ask for a proof of life?"

"You've been watching too many movies, Care. The money is supposed to be transferred into an offshore account. It'll be untraceable. And I can't ask for proof of life until they make contact."

"So what are you going to do until then?"

"Wait, I guess."

"Well, that sucks."

"Tell me about it…" Mark sighed and took another swig from his bottle.

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><p>Breakfast consisted of a stale piece of bread and some coffee-like liquid. Elena ate for the sole purpose of gaining strength so she could escape this hell-hole the first chance she got.<p>

From her "porch" she had a view of most of the camp, and she watched as an argument arose between some of the soldiers, which was quickly put down by Damon. He stepped between the arguing men and said something and the quarrel instantly appeared settled.

They looked up to him, respected him. Who was this man? How could a foreigner, an American like herself, become so immersed in a culture so different from their own and blossom in it? Especially someone as arrogant as Damon?

"Enjoying the view?"

Elena snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of his velvety voice to find him standing on the ground in front of her, his arms casually resting on the frail porch railing. `

"I'm bored," she sighed.

"Are we not entertaining you, Princess?" Damon drawled.

"If I'm gonna be stuck here anyways, how 'bout an interview?"

"You want to interview little ol' me? I'm so flattered," he mocked, putting a hand over the spot where his heart was supposed to be.

"Well, you're the only one around here who speaks English, so my choices are rather limited. And I suspect Mr. Zhu won't be making an appearance anytime soon…"

"Mr. Zhu is otherwise engaged at the moment."

"Figures. So how 'bout it?"

"It'll have to wait. You and I are going on a road trip."

"Road trip? I would hardly call those jungle trails roads."

"It's a figure of speech," Damon rolled his eyes.

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to find out how much your fiancé loves you…"


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thanks for the sweet reviews. Enjoy!_

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><p>REBEL WITH A CAUSE<p>

~ IV ~

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><p>Elena packed her things – all of which fit in a small backpack. She always was a light packer. She had a couple of tank tops, T-shirts and an extra pair of cargo pants. The jungle was no place for running around in shorts or skirts. Other than a few other basic necessities, Elena only brought her notebook and tape recorder on this trip. Granted, she hadn't planned to stay this long. If she had, she probably would have packed a few more outfits.<p>

A woman in the camp washed her clothes in the river, but it hardly made them cleaner, just… smellier. If Damon noticed, he didn't say anything about it. Of course, he was probably used to the smell.

"So where exactly are we going?" Elena asked as his machete cleared the path through the lush tropical plant life.

"To collect our reward, of course. I'm a man of my word, Miss Gilbert. If the money has been transferred into the dedicated account, I'll splurge for your one-way ticket back to the States."

"And if it hasn't?"

"Let's hope it has."

"But what if it hasn't?" Elena persisted.

"Don't ask questions you don't really want an answer to," he said coldly.

Elena felt a chill go through her despite the oppressing heat.

"How much further?" she asked instead, her voice slightly shaky.

"At the rate we're going… I'd say another day's worth of trekking."

"_Day?_"

"Why? You got someplace else to be? Some pressing social engagement?" Damon mocked.

"I have a life to get back to."

"Oh, right, I forgot… becoming Mrs. Lockwood. I'm curious… why do rich people marry other rich people? Wouldn't it be better to spread it around? The wealth, I mean."

"I'm not marrying Mark because he's rich or because he's a Lockwood."

"Why then?"

"He's a good man. He's funny, smart, caring…"

"Sounds riveting," Damon scoffed.

"What's wrong with being funny, smart and caring?"

"Oh, nothing… if you don't mind your life being predictable."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just… where's the passion? The way you talk about him is like you've been married for fifty years."

"So? What's wrong with that?"

"Oh, come on! It's boring! You need adventure in your life. You travelled halfway across the world for a story. If this 'Mark' person really satisfied you, you wouldn't need to travel the world for kicks."

"Who are _you_ to pass judgment on my life? You don't know the first thing about me or my relationship with Mark."

"I know he let you take off on some crazy kamikaze mission into a revolutionary leader's camp. If you were mine, I wouldn't let you leave the bedroom, let alone the country."

"Do they teach 'Chauvinism 101' in the jungle? Or were you raised by wolves?"

"I think they were panthers," Damon said pensively.

That explains a lot, Elena thought to herself.

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><p>"Still no word?" Caroline asked as she and Mark sat down to lunch at the Grill.<p>

"The deadline's today. We should be hearing something back soon."

"Oh my god, Mark, what if they send you one of her fingers?" Caroline clasped a hand over her mouth.

"Again, Care, stop watching those movies," he rolled his eyes.

"How are you not more upset about this?"

"I'm upset. I'm furious with myself for letting her go in the first place, I'm furious with Saltzman for not checking up on this guy before sending her off, and I'm furious with Elena for putting herself in danger."

"Elena's always been headstrong, Mark, you know that."

"Yes, but… I guess I just thought she would change once we got serious, that she would want to settle down and raise a family."

"You wanted a trophy wife and a stay-at-home mom and you chose Elena Gilbert?" Caroline raised her eyebrows.

"No, I didn't mean it like _that_. I just… I hoped she would stick to writing local pieces. Like reviews of the latest movies or covering the town events."

"Well, maybe when she comes back she'll reconsider her career choices," Caroline said, shrugging.

"Maybe," Mark said and chugged his beer.

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><p>"So how did you end up Young-Zhu's errand boy?" Elena asked after they had been walking for hours in silence. She wanted to provoke him, but he didn't take the bait.<p>

"So you're ignoring me now?" she huffed. "You know…" he cut her off, covering her mouth with his hand and shoving her against a tree.

Elena looked at him wide-eyed, but he wasn't looking at her – he was looking at something in the distance, straining his hearing to pick up the sound of rebel soldiers crossing their path. He looked at Elena and gave her a warning look, putting a finger to his lips to indicate she needed to be quiet. She nodded in understanding and he slowly removed his hand.

"Who are they?" she whispered.

Damon clearly thought her whisper was too loud, because he put a finger to her lips and stepped closer again, their chests brushing against each other. Elena's breath hitched when he leaned in close, his soft lips brushing against her earlobe as he whispered, "The Tzu-Tien, another rebel group. They torture their prisoners until they beg for mercy. Then they kill them."

Elena shivered. Being so close, Damon noticed. "It's ok. You're safe with me."

If she hadn't been so scared, she would have laughed out loud. Safe with him? The man who was going to kill her if Mark didn't come up with the money.

After a few more minutes of tense silence, Damon stepped away from her and started moving again. Elena followed.

"It will be dark soon. We need to keep up the pace if we want to make it before nightfall."

"Make it where?"

"There's a deserted village a few miles up ahead. Hopefully, no-one else has taken up residence there for the night."

"What about those rebels?"

"They were heading in a different direction. They won't be a bother."

* * *

><p>"Wait here," Damon ordered as the jungle gave way for what looked like it might have been a village at one point. Old structures were overgrown with vines.<p>

It didn't look like the crumbled buildings would provide much shelter, at least not from where Elena was standing. She waited while Damon surveyed the village. It was already dusk and for her to try to escape into the jungle _now_… no, it would have to wait. If Mark hadn't wired the money, she would run. They had to be heading somewhere where modern ways of communication were available. Surely, someone would help her get back to the States.

"It's clear. Come on," he said and waved her over.

"What is this place?" Elena said, looking around.

"I told you – an abandoned village."

"Why was it abandoned? Did something happen here?"

"You could say that," Damon said between clenched teeth.

"Tell me," Elena insisted, grabbing his arm.

A spark of fury ignited the fire in his eyes and he pushed her up against a stone wall, partly disintegrated. "You," he hissed, "don't give me orders!"

"Why not?" Elena retorted defiantly. "What are you going to do about it? If you kill me, you won't get your money."

"There are other ways to show you who's on top," he said menacingly.

Elena gasped as she saw pure lust in his burning eyes and felt his hard body pressing into her.

"So stop trying to order me around," he said and released her completely, striding off to find a place to bunk for the night.

Elena was left short of breath, holding on to the stone structure behind her to keep herself steady. Why was she pushing him? She knew nothing about this man, except that he had plotted to abduct her and ransom her for money. What on earth possessed her to pick a fight with him? There was just something so infuriating about him. He pushed her buttons and she wanted to throttle him. Elena was shocked to realize this complete stranger had made her experience more emotions in a few weeks than Mark had in years.

She and Mark never fought. Never. It was almost like they didn't care enough to bother. She had escaped into her work as a coping mechanism when she lost her parents and her brother. She and Mark had been friends since kindergarten, and he was there for her when Grayson, Miranda and Jeremy drove off Wickery Bridge. Elena had just finished high school when it happened, and with her trust fund and inheritance, she was able to go to college and keep the house. Money was never an issue. She would trade it all, though, for one more day with her family.

Unfortunately, she couldn't trade it for her freedom. Everything she owned was safely tucked away where no-one but her could access it. Which meant that Mark couldn't use her personal fortune to pay the ransom. Of course, she would pay him back. She didn't like being indebted – even to her future husband.

Money was important, sure, but Elena hated how an excess of it somehow licensed people to act whichever way they chose. Mark's parents, like hers, came from old money. While the Gilberts were never much for flaunting their wealth, the Lockwoods were quite the opposite.

Elena had always thought Mark was different, but these past years spent together, she had come to see more and more of his parents' attitudes in him. They never talked about it, never acknowledged it as a problem. He didn't want her to work. He wanted her to play the role of perfect wife and mother, but that just wasn't her.

Still, she accepted his proposal, because, really, why shouldn't she? She didn't have anyone else and Mark had always been good to her. He never pushed her to do anything – at most he nudged her in the direction he thought she should go. Yes, she could have a comfortable life with Mark. They would be happy together. If he paid the ransom.

* * *

><p>Damon was furious with himself. Why was he letting her get to him like this? He had never in his 30-something life forced himself on a woman, yet he had basically threatened to rape her just now. He wasn't going to, obviously, but the way her body was responding to him wasn't exactly helping his self-control.<p>

Why was she pushing him? He had threatened to kill her if her fiancé didn't pay the ransom, and still she didn't seem to fear him. Well, she should. He didn't have a choice, people would die if he didn't come up with the money. Slow, painful, agonizing deaths.

But would he be able to go through with it? He pushed away the thought. Her fiancé would pay, he had to. Who wouldn't? For a woman like Elena – though he'd never use her first name out loud he couldn't help but think of her like 'Elena' – he would kill and steal to free her. The irony wasn't lost on him.

* * *

><p>The only structure with a roof Elena found was what looked like a temple, stripped of any adornments that might have been there once. Now, it was just another building – with a roof.<p>

Elena didn't know if it rained here, but she wasn't about to sleep under the stars. Not that she was likely to get much sleep. Her body felt the strain of their long trek, her back ached from the added weight of the backpack, her legs and feet hurt from the uneven terrain, and her stomach screamed for sustenance. She ignored it as best as she could and laid down on the cold stone floor, strewing her clothes out to support her head and make herself slightly more comfortable. It failed miserably.

Elena was struggling to find a relatively comfortable position when she heard footsteps and froze. She quickly got on her feet, pressing herself into the wall and held her breath.

"I thought you might be hungry," a velvety voice said casually. Damon didn't even spare her a glance as he sat down on the floor and laid out a spread of plants and fruits she didn't recognize.

"I'm fine," Elena said between gritted teeth, only to be betrayed by her rumbling stomach.

Damon chuckled. "Yeah, so I hear. Now come on, eat. How else will you get the strength to argue with me?" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice and a glint in his eyes.

"I thought you made it perfectly clear I'm not allowed to fight with you."

"Technically, I said you're not allowed to order me around. You can fight me as much as you like."

Huffing, Elena walked over and sat down opposite him, picking up one of the fruits.

"Go ahead," he urged her on as she sat looking at it, "it's not poisonous."

After some hesitation, Elena bit down and the juices from the fruit started trickling down her chin.

"It's sweet," Elena said and licked her lips, wiping the sticky liquid off her chin with her finger and licking it off. She wasn't doing it intentionally and her eyes widened as she saw the expression on Damon's face and quickly got up and turned away.

"Do you have some water?" she asked, facing away from him, trying to clean herself up.

Suddenly, he was standing right behind her and Elena felt her skin prickling, goose bumps erupting all over her body.

"I could help you with that," he breathed in her ear.

Elena slowly turned around, not knowing what to expect. When he wiped her chin with a damp cloth, she felt oddly disappointed.

"You have a little…" he said and wiped along the trail one of the drops had travelled.

When he reached the place where the trail disappeared down her cleavage, Elena's hand shot out and took the cloth from him.

"Thanks, I've got it from here."

He gave a slight nod and returned to his sitting position on the floor. Elena turned her back to him to finish cleaning up.

"So… I'm going to go to bed, so if you don't mind…" Elena said once she was finished.

"Well, it just so happens that you chose the only building in the village with a roof, so I guess we'll be bunking together," Damon shrugged.

"Fine. You stay on that side of the room and I'll stay on this side," Elena dictated, gesturing to where she thought he should go.

"Actually, I'm fine right here," Damon drawled and laid down on the floor, his arms under his head.

Elena huffed and laid down where she had spread her clothes, a few feet away. She squirmed trying to find a comfortable position but was failing miserably. She sighed loudly every time she did so, and finally Damon gave up.

"I can't sleep with all the noise you're making. I'd give my right arm to make you stop."

"Hand me an axe and I'll be happy to help you chop it off," Elena said sourly.

"Not what I meant," he groaned and got up from his spot, laying down beside her and extending his right arm, while supporting his own head with his left.

Elena looked at him, puzzled, and as he raised his eyebrows in a 'well?' expression, she scooted over, draping one of her shirts over his arm and using it as a pillow.

"There. Comfy?"

Elena simply huffed.

"Great. Good night, Princess."


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thanks for the sweet reviews, you really lift my mood. Btw, one of these scenes was inspired by a movie, see if you can guess which one (it ended differently, though) : ) Enjoy! _

* * *

><p>REBEL WITH A CAUSE<p>

~ V ~

* * *

><p>When Elena awoke the following morning, she was resting her head on Damon's chest and had her hand on his stomach. To anyone who might have walked in just then, they would appear more like lovers than kidnapper and hostage. Of course, the village being deserted, no-one did.<p>

"Sleep well?"

Elena felt the vibrations of his speech perhaps even before she heard the words come out of his mouth. She instantly sat up, moving away from him.

"Fine," she mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Good. We'll want you well rested for your big reunion," he said and got up. "I've had better nights, though," he groaned as he stretched his limbs.

"Yeah, I'm sure your life was just peachy until you got stuck with me," Elena said sarcastically.

"It had its advantages," Damon conceded.

"Well, good thing you'll be rid of me soon – and you'll have five million dollars for your trouble."

"Had I known you before, I would have asked for a lot more."

Elena huffed and gathered her things off the floor. "We'd better get going, then, if I'm such a nuisance."

"You took the words right out of my mouth," he smirked. Inside, a part of him was aching to tell her that he thought she was worth far more than five million dollars. The rest of him, though, was telling him to keep his eye on the prize and not let anything distract him.

* * *

><p>They made it to the next village – this one actually qualifying as 'civilization' – within a couple of hours. Damon brought Elena to a small house where he spoke to a little old woman and Elena was subsequently led to a small room without a window.<p>

"What am I doing here?" she asked Damon, who was hovering in the doorway.

"I can't very well bring you to the post office and have you make a scene, now can I? Mrs. Zhou is loyal to our cause, she will keep an eye on you until I return. Don't bother trying to escape. Mrs. Zhou and her husband are as loyal to me as the soldiers in my camp. Just sit tight, and as soon as I've confirmed the money's in the account, you'll be a free woman."

"Can't wait," she said defiantly.

"I'm gonna miss you too, Princess," he smirked and after exchanging a few more words with Mrs. Zhou, he left, closing the door to the small room behind him.

* * *

><p>Elena waited in the confined space that smelt vaguely of mildew and hay - did they keep animals? – for what seemed like hours. Just when she thought she couldn't stand the stuffy air any longer, she heard voices and the door flew open.<p>

It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness the daylight brought to the dark, dank room and she blinked several times to make out the features of the dark figure occupying the doorway.

"Come on, we're leaving," Damon commanded in a gruff voice.

Elena eagerly obliged, grateful to leave the putrid smelling room.

"Finally," she sighed. "I guess this is goodbye, then," she said as they exited the house and turned onto another street.

"Your fiancé didn't come up with the money," he said brusquely. "They're stalling."

Elena couldn't believe what she was hearing. Why wouldn't Mark pay the ransom? It wasn't like he didn't _have_ five million dollars. Sure, a lot of it was tied up in his stock portfolio, but still…

"They want more time?"

"And proof you're still alive."

"Are you going to give it to them?"

"I _should_ just chop off one of your fingers and send it to him. Isn't that what they do in the movies?"

"But that wouldn't really prove I'm alive, would it?" Elena said, her voice slightly unsteady.

"You're probably right. That's why I'm going to settle for a phone call. Give you a chance to talk to your loving fiancé for a few seconds and convince him he needs to pay up.

"You're gonna let me use the phone?" Elena said, incredulous.

"One of my contacts specializes in untraceable, disposable cell phones," he said and took out a phone from the pocket of his cargo pants. "You've got five minutes," he said as he handed it over.

Elena reached out to take the phone from him and before she could retract her hand, his fingers enveloped hers.

"I suppose I don't have to tell you to leave out any physical descriptions," he said in a low voice.

Elena nodded and he let go.

With fingers still trembling from the electrical current that shot through her body when his skin touched hers, Elena dialed Mark's number.

"_Hello_?"

"Mark!"

"_Elena? Is that you? Where are you?"_

"I can't say. Listen, Mark, I need you to transfer the money. I'll pay you back when I get back."

"_It's not that simple, Elena. I can't free up that much cash just like that. I'm __going to need more time."_

"I don't know how long they're prepared to wait, Mark…"

"_Tell them I need at least a week."_

"A week? You're telling me I'm gonna be stuck with this… brute… for a whole week?"

"_Who's holding you hostage, Elena?"_

"I can't tell you that, Mark."

Damon grabbed the phone and said in a calm, fake accented voice, "You have one week. Every day beyond that, your pretty little fiancée loses a limb. Do we have a deal?"

"_Let me talk to Elena again."_

"Your time's up, lover boy. Probably should have told her you love her instead of spending precious minutes discussing finances. One week, buddy. Spend it wisely," he said before hanging up.

"Come on, let's go," he said and grabbed her arm, dumping the phone in the nearest container.

"Where are we going?" Elena asked, dragging her feet.

"I'm hungry. Aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Then come on, we're going to a friend's house for dinner."

"One of _your_ friends, I assume."

"They won't help you escape, if that's what you're asking."

* * *

><p>Mr. and Mrs. Lang were nice and hospitable people, and they insisted Damon and Elena stay the night. At least, that's what Damon translated their words to mean.<p>

They were shown into a small room with a cot, and Mrs. Lang bowed deeply before leaving them for the night.

"Certainly an upgrade from last night's accommodations, wouldn't you say?" Damon drawled as he pulled his T-shirt over his head.

"Seeing as I am yet again forced to share a space with you… _no_," Elena retorted as she unbuttoned her shirt, leaving her in a tank top and cargo pants. The room was warm and she would love to slip out of her pants, but not if she was sharing a bed with _him._

Damon, however, had no such qualms and leisurely stepped out of his cargo pants before slipping under the covers.

Elena took note of how he put his knife on the chair beside him and slipped into bed as well.

"Good night, Princess," he said and turned his back to her.

Elena found herself admiring the muscles in his back, neck and arm and getting an overwhelming urge to reach out and feel if they truly were as hard as they looked. But she resisted. Instead, she waited patiently for his breathing to even out.

When he rolled over on his back, looking utterly relaxed, Elena carefully reached across his body, keeping an eye on his closed eyes and the rise and fall of his chest, and searched for the knife. When her fingers grazed the handle, she held her breath as she grabbed it and held it to his throat.

Eyes as dark blue as a stormy sea stared back at her. "Do it," Damon challenged her.

Elena's hand trembled, holding the knife to his throat. Her determination wavered for a split second. Then everything happened at lightning speed. Suddenly, she was on her back with Damon hovering over her and pressing her into the soft mattress. The knife she still held in her hand was the only thing keeping the distance between them.

"Either kill me or kiss me," he breathed.

"Are those my only options?" Elena got out, her breath equally labored.

"Try that again, and they will be," he said and moved off of her, resuming his previous position. "Get some sleep, Princess. We have a long walk back tomorrow."

Elena didn't expect to get much sleep. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she thought it might bust out of its cage.

His body pressed so intimately against hers, his breath mingling with her own… it had made her senses swim, drunk on heady excitement. She hadn't feared for her life at that moment, she had feared for her heart. Was this what they called Stockholm syndrome – that you wanted your captor to capture _all_ of you?

No, she still hated him. Nothing would change the fact that he had threatened to kill her if Mark didn't pay the ransom. Mark. Why wasn't he doing everything he could to free her? He didn't know how she was being treated – she could be kept naked in a cage for all he knew. Why stall? Even if most of his fortune was tied up, selling off a few shares in the Lockwood Corporation would hardly be a problem.

Elena didn't realize she had started crying until her salty tears reached her lips. Embarrassed, she quickly wiped them away but couldn't help a soft sob escape her. No. She wouldn't fall apart over this. She was stronger than that. Elena clenched her jaw and rolled over to her side.

Damon clenched her jaw. He hated the sound of crying women. Even more so, he hated knowing he was the cause of this particular woman's distress. His first instinct was to turn around and wrap his arms around her tiny frame, but he couldn't do that. For one, she couldn't know he felt bad for what he was doing – that he actually _had_ a conscience. Besides, it's not as if she would welcome his attempts at comforting her.

So instead, he lay there, waiting for her sobs to subside and for her to drift off to sleep from sheer exhaustion.

* * *

><p>"So you talked to her?" Caroline said as Mark sat down with his cup of coffee at her patio table.<p>

"I did."

"How did she sound?"

"Like Elena, a little stressed."

"Stressed? Mark, she's being held hostage."

"She was angry with me for not paying the ransom."

"Well, duh! You think she's on vacation, pouting because she sunk her yacht and don't have enough air fare to get back home?"

"No, of course not. It's just… she just got right down to business, telling me to transfer the money."

"Well, she probably had a limited time frame."

"The guy who took the phone from her told me I should have told her I loved her. I can't believe the thought didn't even cross my mind," he shook his head.

"Hey, it's ok," Caroline said soothingly, rubbing his knee. "You're under a lot of pressure, Mark."

"He said he'd hurt her if I didn't pay up within the week."

"So you'll pay and she'll be home within days, perfectly fine."

"It's not that simple, Care."

"Why not?"

"The shares I have to sell to pay the ransom are all in the Lockwood Corporation."

"So?"

"So I have to sell them to my brother. I'll lose controlling interest."

"Can't you just buy the shares back?"

"He won't let me. He's been waiting for something like this to happen."

"Your brother's been waiting for your fiancée to be kidnapped and ransomed from across the world?"

"No, but… you know what I mean."

"I do, Mark," Caroline said, her voice filled with compassion and understanding.

"Thank you, Caroline, for being here," he said softly.

"Any time, Mark. Any time."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thank you for all of your sweet reviews. Btw, this is purely a work of fiction, any resemblance between people in this story and persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This is not a how-to-guide on surviving in a jungle or behaving when in a hostage situation. Don't try this at home, ok? : ) Enjoy! _

* * *

><p>REBEL WITH A CAUSE<p>

~ VI ~

* * *

><p>"Breakfast is served," Damon proclaimed and tossed Elena a piece of bread.<p>

She caught it and sat up. "You're bringing me breakfast in bed?"

"Just trying to make you feel at home, Princess," he shrugged. "But I suppose your servants present a much nicer spread."

"You don't know anything about my life," Elena huffed.

"So you didn't get everything your heart desired?"

"No, I didn't. I'd give up all my worldly possessions to have my family back," she snapped.

Damon bit his tongue. Right, she lost her parents and brother when she was still a teenager. He read that.

"Finish that," he said, nodding to the bread. "We should get going." With that, he turned around and left the room before he was tempted to tell her he was sorry for her loss. No good would come of that.

* * *

><p>They walked in relative silence. All that could be heard were the sounds of the jungle and the furious slapping of plants against clothes. Elena kept up the pace, furiously pressing on in whatever direction they were headed. When Damon suddenly stopped, she walked right into him.<p>

"Hey!"

He swerved, clasping a hand over her mouth and one around the back of her head, holding her steady. "Tzu-Tien," he whispered. "Let's move," he said, pulling her with him towards a cave.

"Stay here," he said and pushed her further inside. He grabbed his knife from his belt and handed it to her. "If anyone comes in here, you attack first, ask questions later. Got it?"

Elena nodded, clutching the handle.

"Good," he said and darted out of the cave.

Elena held her breath as she listened for sounds. When the shooting started, she covered her ears with both hands, dropping the knife to the cave floor. Once it stopped, she picked up the knife and pressed herself against the cold cave wall, breathlessly waiting for signs of life.

When she heard footsteps approaching, she clutched the knife harder and waited. She heard the rattle of guns being carried and shuffling feet. She was just about to lunge forward when a velvety voice whispered, "It's me."

Elena didn't know what came over her, but she dropped the knife and flung herself into his arms. Damon was just as surprised as she was at her gesture, and he stumbled backwards.

"I thought… are you ok?" she asked, pulling back.

"I'm fine, just a scratch," he nodded towards his bleeding leg. "There were only five of them. We should get going right away. They may be missed."

"But are you ok to walk?"

"I have to be."

"Wait… just… sit down, ok?" Elena took his arm and tugged on it, urging him to sit down on the ground. Once he had, she unbuttoned her shirt and tore up the fabric, wrapping it around his wounded leg.

"You have to keep pressure on it," she said while her fingers worked to staunch the blood flow. It was merely a flesh wound, but there was always the risk of infection.

"Why do I get the feeling you've done this before?" he asked while she made a tourniquet.

"I was a candy striper," Elena shrugged. "I did volunteer work at Mystic Falls Hospital. My father was a doctor there."

"You know this is quite the fantasy, right? The nurse and the wounded soldier?" Damon smirked.

Elena huffed and pulled him to his feet. "I'm not a nurse and you're not a soldier."

"Right… so we should get going, then?" he said and limped out of the cave.

Elena grabbed her backpack and followed. Damon managed to find a piece of wood to use as a crutch and they kept up the pace until they made it back to the camp late at night.

* * *

><p>By the time Damon got to the bed, his limp had gotten worse and he was shaking with a fever.<p>

"I need to properly clean the wound," Elena said and undid the makeshift bandage. "Do you have a first-aid kit around here?"

He pointed towards a crate on the floor and Elena rummaged through it to find a green and white box. She brought it over to the bed and realized she would have to cut off his pant leg or remove his pants completely to properly clean the wound.

"Could you remove your pants, please?" she said, clutching the bottle of antiseptics she had found in the box.

Damon simply groaned, his forehead glistening with sweat. Oh, great. Elena took a deep breath, set down the bottle and went to work on his belt. As she pulled down his cargo pants over his narrow hips, she made sure his boxers stayed in place. Once they were off, she grabbed the antiseptic and went to work on his flesh wound, cleaning and dressing it. His skin was burning hot under her fingers.

She went over to get the wash cloth, wet it and started washing his legs, arms and face. After a moment's hesitation, she pulled off his T-shirt as well and washed his stomach and chest, her fingers lingering on his abs for a minute longer than necessary.

In the first aid kit, she also found a bottle of pills which, according to the label, were antipyretics* and handed them to him.

"Here. You need to swallow these."

When he did as she asked, she held a water bottle to his lips and urged him to drink. She grabbed the wet cloth and crawled up on the bed with him, wiping his forehead.

"Why are you helping me?" he got out, his voice a mere whisper.

"Those soldiers… they would have tortured and killed me if they found us, wouldn't they?"

"Among other things…"

Elena shuddered despite the overwhelming heat. "So I guess I owe you my life," she said softly and kept dabbing his forehead.

His hand clasped around her wrist, stilling her movements. "Why aren't you afraid of me?" he said in a low voice, his glazed eyes fixed on hers.

"Oh, I'm afraid," Elena said in a shaky voice, her eyes flicking between his mesmerizing orbs and his sculpted lips.

"Good," he said and let go of her wrist, pushing her away at the same time.

"You should get some sleep," she said and put the first-aid kit back in the crate.

He soon drifted off to a fever-induced sleep and Elena went over to her backpack and dug out her pajamas. Moving over to stand by the other side of the bed and making sure his back was turned, she quickly undressed and put on the silky camisole and shorts she had worn before they started sharing a bed. It was a hot and humid night and he was out cold.

Elena slipped into bed, her back turned towards him, and tried to fall asleep. It didn't take long, though, before she felt the weight shift in the bed as he turned around.

Elena shivered when she felt his fingertips graze her shoulder.

"You're cold," he said softly.

"No, you have a fever. Try to get some sleep while the drugs work."

Instead, he inched closer, his lips brushing against the spot his fingertips had vacated. His hand moved to rest on her hip.

"Damon…"

"Mm-hm…"

"Don't," she breathed.

"Why not?" he whispered against her skin, his lips moving up her neck and his hand slipping underneath the hem of her camisole, sliding upwards.

Elena rolled over onto her back and locked up at him, propped up on his elbow.

"Because I'm engaged," she said calmly.

"Is that the only reason?" he said as his index finger traced patterns along her neckline.

"It's the only one I need."

His hand moved again, to caress her face. "Your fiancé cares more about his money than he does about you."

"I could say the same thing about you."

Damon's eyes widened and he rolled onto his back, letting out a deep sigh. "It's not like that."

Elena rolled over to her side, facing him. "Tell me."

"My father was in the military. I followed in his footsteps, but my brother did not. He and his wife came here several years ago as missionaries. I visited them whenever I had the chance. I got to know the people here, saw their suffering under the oppressive regime. I empathized with them. Then my brother and his wife were taken hostage by Young-Zhu. He assured me they would be kept safe as long as I did what he told me to. Then he decided we needed money for weapons. I had to come up with a way to raise the money or Stefan and Lexi would be tortured and killed. I didn't have any connections left in the States, but when I was in the city I took you to, I came across an article about the Lockwoods. I recognized the name as old nemeses of my father's. When I saw the engagement announcement, an idea formed in my head. If I could get the Lockwoods to pay the ransom for Stefan and Lexi, some of their debt to my family would be repaid."

"And what did _I_ do to deserve this?"

"Nothing," he rolled over to his side, facing her, "you were just a means to an end."

"What happens if Mark doesn't pay?"

"My brother and his wife will be dead."

"Let me go and I'll get you the money. I'll sell off everything I own and I'll get you your ransom. Just let me go," she pleaded.

"I can't," he said softly, stroking her face, his thumb pad gently brushing a tear away.

"You don't trust me," she deduced.

"I don't trust easily, Elena. But that's not why I can't let you go. Everyone knows why you're here. I'm dead if I let you go without the money. So is my brother."

"So what do we do?"

"We wait, and hope your devoted fiancé comes to his senses."

* * *

><p>"He's over there," Joe, the bartender at the Grill nodded towards one of the booths.<p>

Caroline strode up to the table and stopped, hands on her hips, taking in the scene before her. "Mark, what the hell is this?"

Mark looked up at her, his eyes unfocused. Probably from the river of alcohol he had running through his system tonight, Caroline thought dryly.

"George says he'll buy all my shares in the company for five million dollars. It's worth at least twice that," he sulked.

"But you only need five million to pay the ransom," Caroline pointed out.

"If I agree to his terms, I'll have nothing left."

"You'll have Elena."

"Yeah, until the next time she goes off on some wild goose chase and winds up kidnapped."

"Come on, let's get you home," Caroline said, pulling on his arm and draping it over her shoulders.

"Home… what's home?" he slurred, letting her lead him out of the Grill. "Home is where the heart lies, they say. Then why does she feel the need to travel across the world without me?"

"Home is where your comfy bed is, and it's the place where you'll sleep it off and wake up in the morning with a terrible headache and then call George and tell him you accept the deal because you love your fiancée and you don't want to see her hurt."

"She doesn't love me, Care," he mumbled as she put him in her car.

"Sure she does," Caroline said and got into the driver's seat. "Why wouldn't she? You're smart, and kind, and handsome. I've never seen her happier."

"We hardly ever sleep together," he mumbled. "She's always so tired. No wonder, since she spends all her time at work, or reading, or writing. There's no passion. We're like an old married couple."

"Well… love isn't just about sex," Caroline said diplomatically.

"But it's a big part of it. Don't _you_ think so?"

"Well, yes… but Elena's different. And you guys love each other. I'm sure if you tell her how you feel…"

"I shouldn't have to, Care. She should want me like I want her."

"I'm sure it'll all work itself out," Caroline said reassuringly as they pulled into the driveway. "Come on, let's get you into bed and, hopefully, you'll feel differently in the morning.

She got out of the car and went around to the passenger's side and helped him out and up to the door.

"Where are your keys?" she asked.

"Front jean pocket," he slurred, leaning against the door.

Caroline sighed and dug into his pocket until she felt his keys. She felt something else, too, and quickly withdrew her hand. Slightly flustered, she hurriedly unlocked the door and pushed it open.

"There you go," she said cheerily.

"Thank you, Care," he mumbled and clumsily kissed her cheek.

"You're welcome. Now sleep it off and you'll make all kinds of awesome decisions tomorrow," she said encouragingly.

"Does that mean I'm allowed to make some stupid ones tonight?" he asked, his eyes suddenly fixated on her.

Caroline bit her lip. "I guess…"

"Good," he said and grabbed her neck, his lips crashing down on hers.

* * *

><p>* antipyretics: from the Greek anti, against, and pyreticus, (pertaining to fever) are drugs or herbs that reduce fever (Wikipedia)<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thank you for the sweet reviews. Only one more chapter to go after this one… : ) Enjoy! _

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><p>REBEL WITH A CAUSE<p>

~ VII ~

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><p>When Elena awoke the following morning, Damon was nowhere to be seen. She was surprised to realize she felt empty with him gone. How could this man evoke so many conflicting emotions in her? Hate, lust, fear, empathy… every day spent with him was a rollercoaster ride. She had been numb for so many years and now it was like she was swimming in emotions. This morning, guilt was one of them.<p>

Even though nothing happened last night, she had wanted it to. She shivered now, just thinking about his fingers on her body, his lips on her shoulder, and how she went to sleep fantasizing about what it would be like to feel every inch of him pressed firmly against her skin.

She quickly shook off her errant thoughts. She had a fiancé who loved her and as soon as he paid the ransom, she would be going back home to him.

Just as she had convinced herself this was something to look forward to, the door swung open.

"Good news, Princess," Damon proclaimed. "You're going on vacation."

"Huh?"

"Well, I have no doubt in my mind your doting fiancé will pay up, so we're going to another city where there's a post office _and_ a spa."

"A spa? You must still be delirious," she shook her head and walked up to feel his forehead.

"Nope. All better. And yes, I do mean a spa. It's one of those tourist spots."

"You're not worried I'll escape?" Elena said astounded.

"Are you going to?" he raised his eyebrows.

"But what if people recognize me?"

"It's not tourist season, Princess. The city's filled with locals, none of which care who you are or who you're engaged to."

"But they're not all loyal to your cause."

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Princess," he said huskily and swung her around so that her back was pressed against his chest, his arms locked around her waist. "I wouldn't mind if you ran," he whispered hoarsely in her ear.

"Why's that?" she breathed with her eyes closed, intoxicated by his heady scent and the unbearable closeness of him.

"Because then I could chase you," he breathed. Elena shivered as his warm breath tickled her neck.

Elena blushed at the wave of images flashing through her mind, imagining that particular scenario. Especially what he would do when he caught her.

"How far would you chase me?" she said in a shaky voice, knowing she should drop the subject, but couldn't.

"To the ends of the world," he answered and spun her around, capturing her lips with his in a scorching kiss.

Elena knew she should push him away, resist him with all her might, but her body was screaming at her to let him in.

As Damon deepened the kiss, he backed her over to the bed, laying her down and climbing on top of her, never once breaking their fevered connection.

It wasn't until his lips left hers and moved down her body that she held him back.

"Damon… we have to stop," she got out.

"You want me just as much as I want you," he persisted.

"It doesn't change the facts. I'm still engaged. You're still holding me hostage."

"And if things were different?"

"They're not."

Reluctantly, he moved off of the bed.

"We should go," he said shortly.

Avoiding eye contact, Elena started packing her backpack.

"I'll wait outside while you get dressed," he mumbled and left the hut.

Elena looked down and realized she was still in her silky pajamas and quickly dug out her cargo pants and a tank top and shirt.

"We're heading in a different direction this time, so we can go by horseback," Damon said as Elena's eyes fell on the white horse waiting outside. "Come on," he said and mounted the horse, holding out a hand to help her up.

She took it and he swung her up to sit behind him, her arms locking instinctively around his waist.

"Ready?" he looked over his shoulder and she nodded.

They took off in a gallop and she clung to him as if her life depended on it. At the speed they were going, it kinda did.

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><p>When they arrived in the city, Damon took her to a house and after a few words with the proprietress, he turned to Elena.<p>

"This is Mrs. Yin. She will take care of you," he gestured to the petite grey-haired woman with a towel draped over her arm.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to check if we've made any progress with the wire transfer. Or would you prefer if I helped give you a bath?" he raised an eyebrow.

Elena felt a blush creep up and shook her head.

"I'll be back in a little while. Have fun, Princess."

As she sunk into the warm water filled with fragrant bath salts, Elena felt her tense muscles relax slightly and her thoughts dissipate along with the rising vapors.

When the water had cooled and become lukewarm, the elderly woman returned with a towel and indicated it was time to get up.

Elena wrapped the towel around her and followed the little old lady into a second room where a massage table was set up. The woman gestured for her to lie down and remove the towel.

Elena did as she asked and lay down on her stomach. She felt a towel being draped across her buttocks and tempered, smooth stones placed along her spine. She was left alone in the room and a soft melody started playing.

After a little while, she heard the faint sound of voices and a door opening. Then someone was in the room, removing the stones and replacing them with warm hands, rubbing warm oil into her skin.

The room was suddenly filled with the scent of jasmine and those soft hands were working on the knots in her back. Elena couldn't help a moan escape her lips and the hands stilled.

"Feeling relaxed?" a velvety voice, thick with emotion, said.

Elena instantly tensed up. "Any news?" she got out.

"As a matter of fact, yes. The money's in the account. You're free to go."

"I can go?"

"I've already bought you a ticket out of here. But we still have a couple of hours to spare. Would you like a massage?"

"Damon, I…"

"Just relax, ok? I give great massages," he said and put some more oil in his palms, warming it up before getting started on her legs.

As his hands moved further up her thigh, Elena tensed and a small tremble set in. "Relax," he said softly. "I know you have a fiancé."

"That didn't stop you before."

"No. You did."

He moved over to her other leg, again stopping where the towel ended, before moving over to her arms, taking her fingers apart with gentle but firm strokes.

"You're good at this," she acknowledged.

"Dated a masseuse once," he shrugged.

"I'm sure," Elena rolled her eyes.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" he said, his voice filled with amusement.

"Hardly," Elena scoffed.

"So it doesn't bother you that you're not the first woman on my table?"

"I'd be surprised if I was," she said simply.

"Well, you are," he said softly. "I'm usually at the receiving end. I don't know why, but it seems women just can't keep their hands off me," he shrugged.

"Yeah, right," Elena rolled her eyes.

"Come on, we should get going," he said abruptly and patted her backside lightly before leaving the room.

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><p>Elena waited until she was sure she was alone before getting off the table and finding a pile of fresh, clean clothes on a chair; a fine, silk, high-collared dress with a jasmine print and slippers.<p>

When she exited the room, Mrs. Yin came and ushered her over to sit in front of a mirror. She pulled Elena's hair up into a loose updo and decorated it with jasmine flowers, then put on a light makeup.

When she was content with the result, Mrs. Yin took Elena over to a sitting room, where Damon was drinking tea. He stood up when she entered and looked her over appreciatively.

"You look amazing," he breathed.

"Thanks," Elena smiled. "But I don't exactly look like someone who's just been released from captivity."

"You're worried about people doubting your story? I could always dump you in a pile of goat droppings or something, but I thought you'd like to spare the other passengers the smell…"

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><p>"So… here's your ticket and passport," Damon said, handing them over. "This bus will take you straight to the airport."<p>

"Ok. Thank you."

"For what? For kidnapping you or for letting you go once the ransom was paid? I don't deserve gratitude, Elena. I know this is too little, too late, but I want you to know I'm sorry for what I put you through," he said sincerely.

"I understand why you did it, Damon. You were protecting the people you love. I respect that. I just… I need to know… would you have killed me if Mark hadn't paid the ransom?"

"I guess we'll never know," he shrugged.

"That's not an answer, Damon," she said between clenched teeth.

"It's the only one I can give you."

"I hope your brother and his wife will be all right," she said shortly and turned around to mount the bus.

"Elena!" he called out and she froze mid-motion.

When she turned around, her eyes were brimming with tears.

"Damn it," he groaned and cradled her face in his hands, crashing his lips down on hers as if he was drowning and she was his only lifeline.

"I would have found a way to keep you safe," he whispered once they came up for air.

"I have to go," she said quietly and turned away.

Elena got on the bus and wept the whole way to the airport.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Another story completed! Yay! Thank you all for reading and leaving such nice reviews. Enjoy! _

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><p>REBEL WITH A CAUSE<p>

~ VIII ~

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><p>Elena slept the whole plane ride home.<p>

When she passed through customs and entered the arrivals hall, a familiar face was waiting for her. She fell into Mark's arms, dropping her backpack to the floor.

He held her close and waited patiently for her sobs to subside before leading her out to the car.

"Are you ok? Did they hurt you?" Mark asked as they drove to Mystic Falls.

Elena shook her head. "I'm ok," she got out.

"I can talk to Saltzman for you, if you want. Tell him that your travelling days are over."

"What? Why?" Elena suddenly sat up ramrod straight in her seat.

"You can't be serious? You want to go back to flying across the world for a story? After what you've been through?"

"Can we not do this right now, Mark? I'm tired."

"Of course. I'm sorry. I was just so worried."

Elena bit her tongue. No good would come of picking a fight. Inside though, she was screaming with frustration. How worried could he have been considering he took his time to pay the ransom?

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><p>A few days passed in awkward silence. Alaric called and asked if Elena felt up to writing a piece about her experience, but she asked for more time.<p>

Elena felt numb, as if she was walking around in a daze, only half alive.

One night, Mark had had enough.

Elena was almost asleep when Mark slipped under the covers and pressed up against her.

"Mark, please. I'm tired," she said.

"You're always tired," he complained.

"I don't know what to say, Mark."

"Say you want me. Say you love me."

"I _do_ love you, Mark. I'm just not…"

"What? Not attracted to me?" he growled.

"You know I am."

"Then why don't you show it? You're like a cold fish, Elena. You walk around like you're someplace else."

"I'm sorry, Mark," Elena said, turning around to face him. "You deserve better. I'm a horrible fiancée. You've been so good to me, so loyal, so…"

"I slept with Caroline," he said, cutting her off and rolling over to his back.

"What?" she breathed.

"I was drunk and she was there. It didn't mean anything, Elena."

"When?"

"About a week ago."

"Before you paid the ransom? Is that why you did it? Buy my freedom to ease your guilt?"

"None of this would have happened if you hadn't gone off and left me! We haven't been together in months, Elena, and you jump at the chance to get away. Then I have to sell all my shares in the company to pay off some lowlife to set you free!"

Elena flew out of bed. "That's it, isn't it? It's all about the money! I told you I'd pay you back."

"It's too late. I can't buy those shares back. I've lost my share of the company for good."

"I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment to you! I hope Caroline helped you feel better about yourself," she said sarcastically.

"As a matter of fact, she did. Care listens to me, she cares, and she certainly appreciated my skills."

"I'm glad someone does!" Elena spat out.

"Clearly, _I'm_ not the problem in our sex life," he scoffed.

"Oh, really? Then why did I feel more with Da… the man who held me hostage for a few weeks, than I did in all my years with you?"

"You slept with him?" he exclaimed, disgusted.

"No! I wanted to, but I stopped him. I couldn't do that to you. Clearly, you couldn't show the same restraint," she huffed and stormed out.

"Where are you going?" he growled.

"I'm staying in one of the guest rooms tonight," she said and slammed the door shut behind her.

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><p>When Elena made her way downstairs the following morning, she found Mark in the kitchen. Wordlessly, he handed her a cup of coffee and she took it and sat down at the kitchen table.<p>

"Where do we go from here?" Mark said as he sat down opposite her.

"I don't know," she sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"I'm sorry."

"We both said some things we regret," Elena shrugged.

"I still want us to work."

"I don't know, Mark, I…" she was interrupted by the phone ringing.

"Who…?" Mark muttered and went to answer. He listened for awhile before holding out the cordless phone to her. "It's Saltzman. He wants to talk to you."

"Ok," Elena said and took the phone, walking into the living room. "Hi, what's up?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Still adjusting."

"I see. Well, I completely understand if you say no…"

"What did you have in mind?"

"I heard from this contact of mine… a couple was held hostage for months and were released a few days after you were. They've agreed to an interview."

"Wh- what are their names?"

"Stefan and Lexi Salvatore. They're missionaries."

"Salvatore," she said quietly, tasting the name.

"Is the name familiar?"

"Uh… I'm not sure."

"Well, as I said, it's completely understandable if you don't want to do the interview, especially considering your relationship with the Lockwoods."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know if you know the story, but several years ago, Richard Lockwood went into business with Giuseppe Salvatore. He left him on the brink of destitution. Salvatore was devastated he couldn't provide for his sons and he shot himself. The eldest son found him.

"Damon," Elena breathed, feeling her heart constrict in her chest.

"Yeah. You know him?"

"Uh… no, not exactly. So where do they want to do this interview?"

"Phnom Penh. Like I said, I completely understand if you feel…"

"I'll do it," Elena cut him off.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, then. Well, I can have you on the next flight out."

"Sounds great."

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><p>"What did he want?" Mark asked as Elena returned to the kitchen.<p>

"I'm going to Phnom Penh."

"What? Now?"

"I can't think of a better time," Elena shrugged.

"I'm serious, Elena. If you go away again, don't even think about coming back here. We're done."

"We've been over for some time now, Mark. I'm sorry all of this had to happen for me to realize it."

"This is about _him_, isn't it?" Mark said between clenched teeth.

"No, this is about me, Mark, and how I didn't feel alive until I left you."

"So that's it? I'm not exciting enough for you?"

"We're just not right for each other, Mark. If you're honest, you'll see that, too," Elena said, tired.

"Maybe so…"

"I never wanted to hurt you, Mark. I hope you know that."

"I do."

"I'll send for my things later, ok?"

"That's fine. Take all the time you need."

"Thank you. I'll talk to you soon. Oh, and here…" she said, slipping off her engagement ring, "you should give that to someone who'll make you as happy as you deserve to be."

"Thanks, Elena."

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><p>Elena straightened her dress as she entered the lobby at the Princess Hotel*, where she was to meet with Stefan and Lexi Salvatore for the interview they had agreed to give.<p>

Her heart skipped a beat when she met piercing blue eyes across the dining hall. Suddenly, the rest of the world fell away and all she could see was him.

Elena didn't know how she made it over to his table, but suddenly she stood before him.

"Hi," she said softly.

"You came."

"The journalist in me couldn't resist a good story," she shrugged.

"Is that the only reason?"

"Maybe the woman in me couldn't resist the chance I might see you again," she admitted candidly.

Damon's cautious smile turned into a full grin and he closed the remaining space between them.

Even when they broke the kiss, they remained in each other's arms, afraid to let go.

"So I take it there is no story?" Elena said.

"Stefan and Lexi are up in their hotel room. Your magazine graciously supplied two suites. They'll answer all of your questions later, they just wanted to give us a chance to talk."

"That's nice of them."

"Mm-hm."

"So… _two_ suites?" Elena cocked an eyebrow.

"You caught that, huh?" he smirked.

"Didn't you say you'd chase me to the ends of the world?"

"I did."

"How 'bout upstairs?"

"I like the way you think, miss Gilbert."

THE END


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